


Loki's Lullaby

by BlanketFortAvenger



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Complete, Fluff, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jötunn Loki, Loki Feels, Loki Needs a Hug, Lullabies, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Singing, Sleep, Tags May Change, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlanketFortAvenger/pseuds/BlanketFortAvenger
Summary: That’s when he hears it. A simple loop of lilting song in a resonating language that couldn’t be anything natural to earth. His enemy’s voice shouldn’t sound so lulling. It’s one of the saddest and most pleasant sounds Tony has ever heard, and it’s only seconds before he’s slipped into a sound sleep.





	1. Chapter 1

Tony’s working on something mundane – something muscle memory, something that requires the basest of brain function. Just enough to keep his thoughts from wandering and just little enough that it hardly contributes to the exhaustion of the past two sleepless nights. His master plan is to go until he passes out and then pray that he’s too comatose for his past to reach him. Somewhere in the multitude of schematic windows and system process lists, there’s a forgotten security feed of the imprisoned god mostly responsible for his self-induced insomniac state. After the fight for New York – well, the world – he had slept like the dead. Dead – the reality that could have been his, so many times over and his sub-conscious couldn’t wait to remind him. All he had to do was let his heavy eyelids fall shut. His nightmares a masochistic mashup of the desert and deep space.

_Being held over a drum. Pushed under the dark water and into the expanse of blackness, the flickering light of distant stars – he can’t breathe. His slipping consciousness begins to fray the edges of his vision but not before the explosion. The soundless blast that becomes many shattering pitches – and he’s back in the desert, machine guns and heavy artillery threatening to tear through him._

He’d tried drinking, but it was three bullets in a six shooter and an itchy trigger finger. Either he slept dreamless and awoke with a hangover to rival the sickness the nightmares themselves provoked, or it made them worse. So he’s working. Making it work. Keeping the gradually slowing dials in his mind turning.

His focus is dimming, his hands getting heavy. Exhaustion settling itself gently, like a cat curling up in a warm lap, and less like the crashing wave that usually floors him. That’s when he hears it. He registers that the low sound has been twisting through his thoughts for some time. A simple loop of lilting song in a resonating language that couldn’t be anything natural to earth. It sweeps every thought from his mind and he listens, lets the tune hollow him. He pulls up the security feed of the god, who’s led unassumingly on the cot in his cell, hands tucked behind his head. His enemy’s voice shouldn’t sound so lulling – but isn’t that just the oldest trick in Loki’s book.

“Jarvis, save the newest versions and scrap the old ones.” Tony says, fully intending to analyse the sound for a translation and any kind of energy signature. Was this a spell? He should probably cut the audio. Slumping forward onto his desk, Tony flicks a screwdriver so it pinwheels a moment. Loki’s voice is low and growing softer. It’s one of the saddest and most pleasant sounds Tony has ever heard. It’s only seconds before he’s slipped into a sound sleep. Not a single thought disturbs him.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“What did you _do_?!” Tony demands striding into Loki’s cell.

“Oh you do look irate. I do hope I can take credit, but I honestly know not what you speak of.” Loki looks equal parts amusedly condescending and suitably unimpressed. Tony scoffs at the god’s use of the word ‘honestly’.

“Last night. What was that song?” Loki looks at him pointedly before recognition alights his features.

“Ah.” Loki says succinctly and looks away. The god shifts his stance slightly and Tony thinks he looks mildly uncomfortable. “Of course you would hear that.”

“What was it?”

“It’s nothing of importance to you, simply a trivial tune.” Loki looks lost in thought before his attention snaps to Tony. “Unless…” Loki’s smile is somewhere between devious and scheming – but when is it not? “Did you sleep _well_ Stark?” Tony rolls his eyes.

“You know I did! What was it? Magic? A diversion?” Tony had been out cold for a blissful thirteen hours and woken up refreshed and panicking. Jarvis had confirmed to the best of his ability that Loki hadn’t gone anywhere after he had fallen asleep. In fact, Loki seemed to have dropped off just after Tony had. So what was his play?

“It was a lullaby.” Loki chuckles. “The Man of Iron lulled to sleep like a child; and by his enemy no less.”

“Yeah? So if not to distract me, what was the great Silver-tongue doing singing lullabies huh? I could get the Hulk, he has proven to be quite convincing. Or maybe I could ask your brother if singing yourself to sleep is normal for you.”

“Silence!” Loki commands and takes a step toward Tony who instantly stills and braces for a blow but none comes. “I wish to avoid further conflict. My word will not be enough for you but the only thing I have else to convince you, is my humiliation. It was just a lullaby and nothing else.” Loki’s voice trails off at the end and Tony hears a glimmer of the wistful sorrow from the song. Silence reigns – a miracle considering its company.

“It’s not just a lullaby.” Tony insists and Loki’s frustration twists his expression into a scathing snarl as he goes to protest; Tony swiftly intercepts his tirade. “It means more than that.” Tony hums in thought and Loki freezes like a deer caught in headlights. “It better not be anything sinister; but…” Tony pauses, the lullaby’s connotations and implications running through his mind. Lullabies are soothing, well wishes. You don’t learn a lullaby from just anywhere. A long ago memory mingles in amongst Tony’s realisations. A gentle hand running though the tresses falling across his brow as his eyes began to flutter closed. His mother’s voice crooning, sweetly. Tony eyes the god knowingly. “Don’t taint it, by trying to convince yourself that it’s _‘just a lullaby’_.” Loki looks affronted before he replaces his mask of indifference – it barely contains a deep-seeded anger.

“Very astute Stark but it’s not the lullaby that’s tainted.” Tony wants to ask more of this cryptic response but the god turns away. “Please leave.” Tony does but before he closes the door to the cell he offers a simple statement, a revelation that occurs to him as he considers the god.

“You’ve got your own nightmares too…” He doesn’t wait for a reply.

 

~ ~ ~

 

It’s five nights since and Tony has barely slept. Each time he makes an attempt, it’s riddled with nightmares and Jarvis has orders to wake him. He doesn’t want to admit it but he’s getting desperate. Really desperate. He figured if a lullaby from a deceptive and violent god worked, then in theory any lullaby should knock him right out – no harm in trying.

It doesn’t work, and neither does replaying the recording of Loki. He’s taken to studying the recording with scrutiny to try find any evidence of magic or spell work. The language is similar to some old Scandinavian dialects but nothing substantial enough to translate. He looks wretched and the other avengers tell him so constantly. He doesn’t bother doing anything that requires expending unnecessary energy. While he’s showered and his clothes are relatively clean, he hasn’t shaved and has dark smudges under his eyes. He’s called to interrogate Loki once _again_ ; with Fury and Steve. Their looks of concern and mild disgust speak volumes and while they don’t say anything, Loki does.

“You look terrible Stark.” Tony groans his annoyance.

“The God of Lies speaks the truth.” Fury mummers with a tone of false astonishment and while he continues to glare, Loki flashes him a snarky grin. They conduct their interrogation. Tony doesn’t really have to say anything, he’s just there to provide different perspectives anyway. He doesn’t pay much attention, except for the way Loki keeps sending him considering glances. It’s as they are leaving, that his attention is really captured.

“Man of Iron…” Tony looks back, only bothering to half-turn. “…perhaps what you need is a night-time fable.” Loki laughs darkly as if it were meant as an insult but Tony knows what it really is. It’s an offer.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Tony’s about to bite the bullet, take a chance. He’s in his bedroom starring into the bottom of his tumbler, when through the amber distortion of liquor and ice, he sees a viridescent shimmer that makes him tense.

“Intoxication can often feed the nightmares instead of drowning them.” Tony doesn’t know if he should move, speak or both.

“What are you doing out of your cage songbird?” He knocks back the whiskey in one smooth action. When he looks up, Loki is sat primly in the armchair beside the bed smirking, though it doesn’t seem to have much enthusiasm behind it.

“You are tired Stark and there is something I want.” Loki hums leaning over and taking the bottle of whiskey from Tony as he goes to refill his glass. Tony _is_ tired. He must be if he doesn’t even have the energy to protest the action. He’s so fucked if Loki wants to fight.

“I’m not going to let you out of your cell for a song – though you’ve managed perfectly fine on your own. What do you want Loki?” The god folds his legs and leans back, seemingly getting comfortable now that he knows Tony isn’t going to immediately send for reinforcements.

“Books.”

“Books?” Tony repeats the word as if it were the last thing he’d have expected.

“The visions that plague my sleep are much more persistent than your own and multitudes greater in number. I have said before, I do not want for more conflict but being kept in such a – tedious environment, you can only imagine where my mind wanders.” Loki gives an emphatic sigh.

“So you want books?” Tony reiterates.

“Indeed. In exchange for sleep songs.” The threat of Loki even considering mischief to alleviate his boredom alone, would have been enough for Tony to agree to provide some reading material; but then he hadn’t slept in five days. Tony nods to himself to settle some kind of resolve and Loki takes it enough as agreement.

“Very good.” Loki says standing and Tony is decidedly less than comfortable about the god’s increasing proximity.

“Whoa wait! Hang on… what?” He stammers loudly, leaning sideways to re-gain some distance.

“Lie back and close your eyes.” Loki commands and Tony just stares back at him stunned.

“Close my eyes?! You’re kidding right? That’s insane, how dumb do you think I am?” Loki huffs clearly frustrated.

“If I kill you then I wouldn’t get my books.” Loki tries to reason.

“How do I know you even want books? What if you’ve just been planning to end me all along?”

“…Because I would have done it already!” Loki shouts and when Tony goes to argue again, Loki surges forward, clamping a palm over Tony’s mouth and breathes.

“Don’t tempt me Tony.” He’s not sure if it’s the sudden use of his first name, or the fact that Loki could easily smother him right now but Tony freezes. “Do we have an arrangement?” Tony thinks for a moment, keeping eye contact with the god and nods once. Loki removes his hand. “Good. Now I repeat; lie back and close your eyes.” Tony does so quickly and with as little preamble as possible.

“Good.” Loki says again though it’s much softer. Tony feels the bed lighten from where Loki had a knee up on the mattress to lean over and silence him; then dip again where the god must have sat down. “You will not speak now, or of this later.” Loki’s voice has dropped to a murmur and Tony nods. Hopefully the less he involves himself the less awkward this will be. There’s a long silence and Tony desperately wants to open his eyes to try and discern if Loki is re-considering murder, but opening his eyes means he’ll be face-to-face with his enemy, while they’re on his bed – and Loki is about to sing him to sleep. He’d been still so far, but the urge to fidget is making his limbs tingle with nervous energy. Then, the lullaby begins and it’s like he’d never have to move again.

The god’s voice is even more astonishing in actuality. It’s a different song from the last and while Tony is unnecessarily disappointed by this, the new tune is just as enchanting. The other had been haunting and listless, while this new lullaby sounded light-hearted and calmly jovial. Tony lets himself get lost in its encircling melody and finds himself swiftly relaxing. He begins to feel his awareness swaying with the pulling sound and the tension drains from his limbs. The last thing he remembers is boneless contentment and soft warmth. 

The first book he brings Loki is H.G. Wells, The War of the Worlds. Partially because it’s a classic and by an author who had a huge influence on Western Midgardian literature and technology – he tells Loki this – but mostly to be kind of ironic and a bit of a dick. If he minds, Loki doesn’t give any indication of it and greedily consumes the fiction. Tony finds it mildly reassuring, which makes it worth it when Fury lectures him on not consulting him first. _‘Honestly, what’s he going to do? Give someone a fatal papercut?’_ Fury simply glares at him like it’s a possibility – then, knowing Loki it probably is. That night, Loki sings the same song as the previous night. Tony had thought to ask for the first lullaby – the haunting one – but then, he also didn’t want to sound more like a child than he already felt. The song is much the same as the first time Loki sang it but Tony relaxes quicker – having already survived one night – and something in Loki’s tone is different. The song seemed to be naturally lilting, rising and falling on melodic waves but this time it sounded less – obligated.


	2. Chapter 2

The following days are much the same. Tony brings Loki everything from Shakespeare and Jane Austen, to Jules Verne and Tolkien. They start to talk on Tony’s visits. Most the books he brings are one’s he enjoyed himself more than once, and he finds he enjoys talking with Loki about the stories. Loki is smart too – not that there was any doubt about that. Tony sometimes offers non-fiction; mathematics and physics, the god can easily follow conversation and it’s refreshing.

Loki sings the same song each night, except once. Tony had closed his eyes and so can’t be sure how, but assumedly Loki conjured a clone to begin a new lullaby. The resulting harmonies sent shivers through Tony and he’s sure he drifted off faster than the previous nights. A problem is arising however. Thanks to Fury’s unending interrogations on life, the universe and _everything_ , but aided by their own leisurely chats, Loki is gathering more books than he can read. Tony is sure that one of these nights Loki is going to forego the lullaby, already well supplied with stories. Well, it’s never been a problem for Tony to go a few nights without sleep. He’s in his workshop working on something mundane again one night, when Loki appears.

“You’re not allowed to be in here.” Tony warns his voice lifting at the end in a joking tenor. The god really shouldn’t be in here but nothing important is on display and so Tony doesn’t bother looking up.

“You were not in your room.” Loki explains, as if this might be news to Tony.

“Yeah well, you have plenty of books to be reading I thought you’d prefer to skip karaoke tonight.” There’s silence and Tony looks up expecting the god to have left. Instead he looks up to be caught in an evaluation by too otherworldly, viridescent eyes.

“Our agreement is one of mutual need. I will sing when you need me to, so long as you continue to provide me with books when I need them.” Loki says steadily and watching Tony closely. “Do you wish to end our arrangement?”

“No. No I just thought…”

“Are you busy?” Loki interrupts and Tony is feeling a little off-topic.

“No?”

“Good.” Suddenly, Loki has a hand on Tony’s shoulder and they’re standing in Tony’s bedroom.

“Woah…” Tony gasps breathless. “…What… What the hell was that Jumper?” Tony pats himself up and down his torso to check that everything is still where it should be.

“You are fine Stark…” Loki is smirking and it’s somehow less disconcerting than his previous indifference. “…though you are weary. Lie down.”

“Hey now…” Tony scoffs. “I’m a big boy I get to pick my own bedtime thank you.” Tony finishes glancing to the bedside clock to see that it is past three am. Loki chuckles.

“If you say so. I guess you won’t be needing my voice anymore then.” Loki makes a shrugging gesture and turns away.

“No you don’t get to… Hey! FINE!” Loki turns back grinning even wider. “If you’re going to be like that, then I get to make requests.” Loki raises an eyebrow in wry amusement.

“The first one. You haven’t sang it since.” The amusement all but drains from Loki’s face but he doesn’t look angry, he looks tired.

“You were right in that it’s not just a lullaby – it means more.” Loki blinks but his eyes remain closed for a second too long.

“I just thought…” Tony begins uncertain. “…It’s a very beautiful song. Sorry. Don’t worry about it.” Loki sighs stepping beside him and Tony follows the prompt to move to the bed, not missing the hand that Loki rests just above the small of his back to guide him. Tony’s not sure if he feels patronised or comforted. The former would sour the moment and he’s almost sure Loki doesn’t mean it that way, but the latter makes him feel strangely guilty.

“It is fine, I’ll sing it.”

 “No honestly, you don’t need…” Tony attempts to assure.

“It is a beautiful song. My mother used to sing it to me.” Tony searches Loki’s face not for want of expression. So many emotions are clearly displayed in the god’s features – he is open. Love, happiness, hurt, anger; it’s all there and Tony feels them as if they were his own. Loki is looking at him like he knows. Knows Tony is reading him like one of their books. “I enjoy singing it.” Loki concludes and while Tony thinks that it’s the truth, he can see it hurts as much as it heals. Instead of arguing further, Tony offers a smile.

“Ok.” Tony says nodding as he arranges himself on the bed and starts getting comfortable. Once he’s settled he looks back at Loki who’s been watching him, still lingering beside the bed.

“Close your eyes.” He says, it’s not so much a command but a barely there plea. Tony lets his eyelids fall shut. The mattress dips beside him and Tony’s breathing evens out, shallowing; restlessness stabilised by the presence. The electricity running through his circuits finally finding its way to ground. Loki hadn’t sat on the edge of the bed since that first night, preferring the armchair and the change is gratifying in its suggestion of trust. Tony waits patiently and he’s curious to note that despite the silence, he already feels relaxed enough that he might be able to drift off just like this.

“This song has two names…” Loki whispers. “…and two versions. Eldingvaskr, is the first. It means, dawn victory.” The god explains and Tony can hear his breath unsettle. “The second is, ækveldsǫngr, the ever evensong.” Loki’s voice grows impossibly quiet and Tony doesn’t miss the underlying implication of the second song’s title. It’s not a lullaby – it’s a requiem. Two sides to the same tale immortalised in song. “Which do you want me to sing?” Loki asks. Opening just one eye, Tony squints up at Loki who promptly looks away. Opening both eyes, he leans up on his forearms, attempting to gauge Loki’s expression. He feels like his choice is important. That simply picking the wrong version might have devastating effects – but which?

“I want you to sing whichever, wait no – whatever you want.” Tony says assuredly, giving Loki an out, not that the god would do anything he didn’t want to anyway. Loki stays turned away for a moment before sighing and looking back. He frowns pointedly and with a hand over Tony’s eyes pushes him firmly back down into the pillows.

“Ok. Ok! Eyes are shut!” Tony laughs.

“They better stay that way Stark.” Loki grumbles but he doesn’t move his hand. The pleasantly cool weight of Loki’s palm on his eyelids is only serving to make them heavier. After a few moments, the weight lightens but the touch remains. Loki slides his fingers into Tony’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp – Tony melts, sighing happily and belatedly registers Loki’s huff of laughter. Despite having broken whatever unspoken boundaries they had had in place, Tony feels nothing but content.

“You’re spoiling me.” Tony half sighs and half whines.

“As one often does with a pet.” Loki hums and Tony can hear the smirk. He doesn’t dare open his eyes but he does gasp indignantly and fold his arms in mock insult.

“That’s it! I’m not bringing you anything but ‘Where’s Waldo’ and Dr Seuss for the next week.”

“Shh Tony.” Loki hushes gently and Tony complies without argument. _‘Obedient’_ a distant part of his mind supplies but it only surfaces as a soft smile. There’s just quiet for a while, Loki continuing to card his fingers gently through Tony’s hair. Then Loki hums a soft prelude. It starts low and lingering, the tune rounding and forming but always returning to the same starting note. Then he begins to sing and suddenly the sound and the silence that enfolds it are almost all that exists, excepting a ghosting caress and the weight beside him. Tony wants to fold himself around it, to draw as close to it as possible. The song is achingly moving and piercing in its clarity, the vowel laden language allowing the notes to cut through the quiet like a blade. Tony is all too aware of how quiet it is. A silence lies beyond the song, waiting for each chance to rush forward and swallow them. Loki’s voice doesn’t allow it much opportunity, each word running into the next, broken only by trills and echoes that elicit shivers. As the song moves forward however, Tony doesn’t feel the heavy warmth that he usually does drifting into sleep. Instead there’s something small and disconcerting, something growing stronger as the song progresses – something that feels strangely like fear. Some kind of instinctual warning, begging him to chase the sound, catch it and not let it end. He doesn’t want to be left in silence. Then, as if urged by his dread, Loki stops. The hand that had been gently soothing his hair, falls away. It’s as unnatural as the silence that crashes down upon them. Tony opens his eyes to look at the god. There’s the small chance that Loki simply thinks he’s asleep but Tony’s sure that the abruptness with which the lullaby ended was not intentional. Loki is looking away and Tony studies him carefully. The god is slumped, forearms on his knees and hands hanging dejectedly. He’s looking at something across the room that from his angle, Tony can’t see; but from familiarity, he knows is the mirror in the ensuite bathroom. Everything about tonight’s song was strange, like it was important – like it meant something. Tony makes his decision. He shuffles over to be more centred in the bed leaving plenty of room. Loki tenses at his movement but doesn’t move or look back. Settling into the cold, Tony can feel those body-warmed sheets beside him and he longs to roll back into them. Instead he makes himself comfortable.

“Loki…” He whispers, closing his eyes again. He feels a shift where the god must turn to look at him and extending his arm, Tony simply pats the bed beside him without another word. He can hear his heart beat, slow and heavy in the silent stillness that extends for long minutes. If it weren’t for the weight beside him, Tony would have been sure Loki had left. A small smile of triumph creeps onto his mouth as he feels said weight shift and then Loki is led beside him. Tony is marginally glad that Loki chose to lie above the covers and avoided letting a cool draft of air into the sanctuary, but he’s also curiously disappointed. Loki sighs long-suffering beside him. “Which did you sing?” Tony all but whispers as if asking something trivial on the edge of sleep. An edge he knows he is nowhere near and something he knows all too well is not simply trivial.

“Eldingvaskr.” Loki’s voice is a barely there breath through dry leaves. Tony knows now, which is wrong. Which he must choose.

“Sing me the evensong.” It’s not a demand but nor is it a request. It’s almost as if it were a fact. As if Loki was always destined to sing this song and Tony had been destined to listen.

“I can’t.” The words are strained as if Loki were trying to choke back the song itself. “It’s Jotun.” Tony had suspected as much. Thor had told them about his adopted baby brother’s qualms with the frost-giants – key word being, adopted.

“You can’t help it.” Tony corrects. Peeking out the corner of his eye, Tony takes one of Loki’s hands that had been folded over the god’s chest. Loki makes no motion of protest and so Tony strokes soothing circles into the chilled skin with his thumb. “Is that the only thing that makes it different from the dawn song? That it’s Jotun? Different lyrics but it’s the same melody?” Loki’s hand squeezes Tony’s briefly and he nods.

“It’s a vast difference Stark. You know not what you speak of.” Loki mutters sourly.

“Mmm I think we’re past Stark…” Tony hums. “…and you’re right, I have no idea.” Loki laughs but it is mirthless and more of just a huff. He tries to release Tony’s hand but Tony continues to hold his. “I don’t speak Aesir or Allspeak. I definitely don’t speak Jotun.” Tony leans up on his side to look at the god’s face. Loki has his eyes shut as if he were in pain.

“Tony you don’t…”

“The melody is all I hear, you are all I hear…” Tony cuts him off and Loki lets a soft sob escape. “…and you know what?” Tony asks rhetorically and Loki opens his eyes to look at him. They are glistening with hurt and hope in the dim light and Tony can feel himself smiling. “No matter what the lyrics say – It will always be a beautiful melody.” The tears fall and Tony unthreads their hands to bring his to Loki’s face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“You’re wrong, you don’t know. If you saw what I am…” Loki sobs, shaking his head. “…you wouldn’t say that.”

“I’m not wrong.” Tony laughs. He knows he’s right and he’s grinning stupidly, because he also knows now that he wants this. Loki is intelligent – brilliant even, hilariously cocky, and not only can the god read him like a billboard in neon but Tony understands Loki as well. He can see that Loki has needed this for so long, what he can’t understand is how no one has given it to him. “Shut your eyes Loki.” The god complies, apparently thankful for the reprieve. “Show me.” Tony insists. Loki resolves himself in some small way, with defeat rather than trust. Like a man come to terms with a death sentence. He breathes a sigh and it clouds in front of Tony’s face. Tony watches as the light winter dawn of Loki’s skin is chased away by a midnight blue. Like ice crystals crawling up his limbs and over his neck, frost settling into his cheeks. Tony was going to offer reassurance but it looks like he’s gone and swallowed all of his words along with his tongue. Luckily he thought of something better. Sliding his forearms under Loki’s pillow, he rests them either side of Loki’s face. He leans forward, pressing his lips to Loki’s. They both gasp at the contact. Loki from surprise and disbelief, Tony from the cold. Tony chuckles and tries again. “Still think I’m wrong?” Tony murmurs against Loki’s mouth and Loki uses it to deepen the kiss. An arm winds around Tony’s waist, made slightly awkward by the sheets, as another slides into the hair at the nape of his neck. Tony melts into the hold as Loki is seemingly determined to find Tony’s tongue for him. Pulling away when he finds he needs a moment to breathe, Tony looks up at the god. Loki winces at something in his expression but looks ashamed more than fearful.

“My eyes…” Loki says grimacing and turning his face to the side. Tony catches his chin to bring his crimson gaze back.

“Are stunning. Admittedly in both senses of the word.” Tony finishes smiling and rather captivated. Loki huffs laughter, shaking his head.

“You are broken mortal, I do not desire someone quite so delusional.” Tony laughs.

“Still so haughty. Told you, same old tune.” Loki puts on an affronted expression.

“How dare you. Old? I have lived barely a millennia.” Loki complains but his smirk ruins it. Tony still laughs wholeheartedly but it soon turns into a shivering yawn. Loki rather than look guilty, smiles and his usual pale complexion bleeds back into his features. His eyes returning to their equally as striking, green as he blinks wetness from his lashes. “I wonder at you Tony Stark. Now lie back.” Tony does so happily. For a moment he is concerned when Loki goes to stand but it’s only to pull the covers aside so he can slip underneath them. Tony pulls him closer and Loki kisses him gently. “Close your eyes.” He whispers. When Tony does, burying his face into Loki’s neck so he can feel the vibrations under his lips, Loki begins his lullaby.

**Author's Note:**

> I keep writing about characters needing sleep, I think I'm trying to tell me something. I'm not at all sober right now, and it's 4:30am. Drunk me knows that if I don't post this now, chances are slim that sober me will. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Sleep sweetly my lovelies.


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